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醉翁亭记翻译-醉翁亭记的翻译和原文

本文目录一览:

1、醉翁亭记的翻译和原文

3、醉翁亭记的翻译及赏析

4、醉翁亭记全文翻译

6、双语||《醉翁亭记》原文及6个版本英译

一、醉翁亭记的翻译和原文

  《醉翁亭记》是宋代文学家欧阳修创作的一篇文章。宋仁宗庆历五年(1045年),参知政事范仲淹等人遭谗离职,欧阳修上书替他们分辩,被贬到滁州做了两年知州。到任以后,他内心抑郁,但还能发挥“宽简而不扰”的作风,取得了某些政绩。《醉翁亭记》就写在这个时期。下面就是我为大家提供的醉翁亭记的翻译和原文,希望能够帮到大家!

   醉翁亭记

   宋代:欧阳修

 宽武离集 环滁皆山也。其西南诸峰,林白音伟壑尤美,望之蔚然而深秀者,琅琊也。山行六七里,渐闻水声潺潺而泻出于两峰之间者,酿泉也。峰回路转,有亭翼然临于泉上者,醉翁亭也。作亭者谁?山之僧智仙也。名之者谁?太守自谓也者方体茶吧丰确队获济。太守与客来饮于此,饮少辄醉,而年又最高,故自号曰醉翁也。醉翁之意不在酒,在乎山水之间也。山水之乐,得之心而寓之酒也。

  若夫日出而林霏开,云归而岩穴暝,晦明变化者,山间之朝暮也。野芳发而幽香,佳木秀而繁阴,风霜高洁,水落而石出者,灯胜兵持种影岩山间之四时也。朝而往,暮而归,四时之景不同,而乐亦无穷也。

  至于负者歌于途,行者休于树费风深研拉动一京,前者呼,后者应,伛偻提携,往来而不末伯衣镇写绝者,滁人游也。临溪而渔,溪深而鱼肥。酿泉为酒,泉香而酒洌;山肴野蔌,杂然而前陈者,太守宴也。宴酣之乐,非丝非烧术以物竹,射者中,弈者胜,觥筹交错,起坐而喧哗者,众宾欢也。苍颜白发,颓然乎其间者,太守醉也。

  已而夕阳在山,人影散乱,太守归而宾客从也。树林阴翳,鸣声上下,游人去而禽鸟乐也。然而禽鸟知山林之乐,而不知人之乐;人知从太守游而乐,而特副理古城土移面作需观不知太守之乐其乐也。醉能同其乐,醒能述以文者,太守也。太守谓谁?庐陵欧阳修也。

   译文及注释

   译文

  环绕滁州的都买江环故是山。那西南的几座山克代放乎他师置围派传峰,树林和山谷尤其优美。一眼望去树木茂盛,又幽深又秀丽的,那是琅琊山。沿着山路走六七里,渐渐听到潺潺的水声,看到流水从两座山峰之间倾泻而出的,那是酿泉。泉水沿着山峰折绕,沿着山路拐弯,有一座亭子像酒飞鸟展翅似地,飞架在泉上,那就是醉翁亭。建造这亭子的是谁呢?是山上的和尚智仙。给它取名的又是谁呢王难消?太守用自己的别号(醉翁)来命名。太守和他的宾客们来这儿饮酒,只喝一点儿就醉了;而且年纪又最大,所以自号“醉翁”。醉翁的情趣不在于喝酒,而在欣赏山水的美景。欣赏山水美景的乐趣,领会在心里,寄托在酒上。

  至于太阳的升起,山林里的雾气散了;烟云聚拢来,山谷就显得昏暗了;朝则自暗任识顶个先护封超打事刘而明,暮则自明而暗,或暗或明,变化不一,这就是山中的朝暮。野花开了,有一股清幽的香味;好的树木枝繁叶茂,形成一片浓密的绿荫;风高霜洁,天高气爽,水落石出,这就是山中的四季。清晨前往,黄昏归来,四季的风光不议南牛胞书价乎击同,乐趣也是无穷无尽的。

  至于背着东西的人在路上欢唱,来去行路的人在树下休息,前面的招呼,后面的答应;老人弯着腰走,小孩子由大人领着走。来来往往不断的行人,是滁州的游分总考接称种它配往黄客。到溪边钓鱼,溪水深并且鱼肉肥美;用酿泉造酒,泉水清并且酒也清;野味野菜,横七竖八地摆在面前的,那是太守主办的宴席。宴会喝酒的乐趣,不在于音乐;投射的中了,当三短配液责诗杂年下棋的赢了,酒杯和酒筹交互错杂;时起时坐大声喧闹的人,是欢乐的宾客们。一个脸色苍老的老人,醉醺醺地坐在众人中间,是太守喝醉了。

  不久,太阳下山了,人影散乱,宾客们跟随太守回去了。树林里的枝叶茂密成林,鸟儿到处叫,是游人离开后鸟儿在欢乐地跳跃。但是鸟儿只知道山林中的快乐,却不知道人们的快乐。而人们只知道跟随太守游玩的快乐,却不知道太守以游人的快乐为快乐啊。醉了能够和大家一起欢乐,醒来能够用文章记述这乐事的人,那就是太守啊。太守是谁呢?是庐陵欧阳修吧。

   注释

  1. 环:环绕。

  2. 皆:副词,都。

  3. 环滁:环绕着滁州城。

  4. 滁:滁州,今安徽省滁州市琅琊区。

  5. 其:代词,它,指滁州城。

  6. 壑:山谷。

  7. 尤:格外,特别。

  8. 蔚然而深秀者,琅琊也:树木茂盛,又幽深又秀丽的,是琅琊山。蔚然:草木茂盛的样子。而:表并列。

  10.峰回路转:山势回环,路也跟着拐弯。比喻事情经历挫折失败后,出现新的转机。

  11. 山:名词作状语,沿着山路。

  12.潺潺:流水声。

  13. 而:表承接。

  14. 酿泉:泉的名字。因水清可以酿酒,故名。

  15. 回:回环,曲折环绕。

  16. 翼然:像鸟张开翅膀一样。

  17. 然:......的样子。

  18. 临:居高面下,由上看下。。

  19. 于:在。

  20. 作:建造。

  21. 名:名词作动词,命名。

  22. 自谓:自称,用自己的别号来命名。

  23. 号:名词作动词,取别号。

  24. 曰:叫做。

  25. 辄:就。

  26. 年又最高:年纪又是最大的。

  27. 意:这里指情趣。“醉翁之意不在酒”,后来用以比喻本意不在此而另有目的。

  28. 乎:相当于“于”。

  29. 得:领会。

  30. 寓:寄托。

  31. 林霏:树林中的雾气。霏,原指雨、雾纷飞,此处指雾气。

  32. 开:消散,散开。

  33. 归:聚拢。

  34. 暝:昏暗。

  35. 晦:阴暗。

  36. 晦明:指天气阴晴明暗。

  37. 芳:香花。

  38. 发:开放。

  39.佳木秀而繁阴,好的树木枝繁叶茂,形成一片浓密的绿荫。

  40. 秀:茂盛,繁茂。

  41. 繁阴:一片浓密的`树荫。

  42. 风霜高洁:就是风高霜洁。天高气爽,霜色洁白。

  43. 至于:连词,于句首,表示两段的过渡,提起另事。

  44. 负者:背着东西的人。

  45. 休于树:在树下休息。

  46. 伛偻:腰弯背曲的样子,这里指老年人

  47. 提携:指搀扶着走的小孩子。

  48. 临:靠近,这里是“……旁”的意思。

  49. 渔:捕鱼。

  50.酿泉:一座泉水的名字,原名玻璃泉,在琅邪山醉翁亭下。

  51. 洌:水(酒)清。

  52. 山肴:野味。

  53. 野蔌:野菜。蔌,菜蔬。

  54. 杂然:众多而杂乱的样子。

  55. 陈:摆放,摆设。

  56. 酣:尽情地喝酒。

  57. 丝:琴、瑟之类的弦乐器。

  58. 竹:箫、笛之类的管乐器。非丝非竹:不在于琴弦管箫。

  59. 射:这里指投壶,宴饮时的一种游戏,把箭向壶里投,投中多的为胜,负者照规定的杯数喝酒。

  60.弈:下棋。这里用做动词,下围棋。

  61. 觥筹交错:酒杯和酒筹相错杂。形容喝酒尽欢的样子。

  62. 觥:酒杯。

  63. 筹:酒筹,用来计算饮酒数量的筹子。

  64. 苍颜:脸色苍老。

  65. 颓然乎其间:醉醺醺地坐在众人中间。颓然,原意是精神不振的样子,这里形容醉态。

  66.归:回家。

  67. 已而:不久。

  68. 阴翳:形容枝叶茂密成阴。

  69. 翳:遮蔽。

  70. 鸣声上下:意思是鸟到处叫。上下,指高处和低处的树林。

  71. 乐①其乐②:以游人的快乐为快乐 乐①:意动用法,以…为乐。乐②:快乐。

  72. 醉能同其乐,醒能述以文者:醉了能够同大家一起欢乐,醒了能够用文章记述这乐事的人。

  73. 谓:为,是。

  74. 庐陵:庐陵郡,就是吉洲。今江西省吉安市,欧阳修先世为庐陵大族。

三、醉翁亭记的翻译及赏析

环滁皆山也。其西南诸峰,林壑尤美,望之蔚然而深秀者,琅琊也。山行六七里,渐闻水声潺潺,而泻出于两峰之间者,酿泉也。峰回路转,有亭翼然临于泉上者,醉翁亭也。作亭者谁?山之僧曰智仙也。名之者谁?太守自谓也。太守与客来饮于此,饮少辄醉,而年又最高,故自号曰醉翁也。醉翁之意不在酒,在乎山水之间也。山水之乐,得之心而寓之酒也。

  若夫日出而林霏开,云归而岩穴暝,晦明变化者,山间之朝暮也。野芳发而幽香,佳木秀而繁阴,风霜高洁,水落而石出者,山间之四时也。朝而往,暮而归,四时之景不同,而乐亦无穷也。

  至于负者歌于途,行者休于树,前者呼,后者应,伛偻提携,往来而不绝者,滁人游也。临溪而渔,溪深而鱼肥,酿泉为酒,泉香而酒洌,山肴野蔌,杂然而前陈者,太守宴也。宴酣之乐,非丝非竹,射者中,弈者胜,觥筹交错,起坐而喧哗者,众宾欢也。苍颜白发,颓然乎其间者,太守醉也。

  已而夕阳在山,人影散乱,太守归而宾客从也。树林阴翳,鸣声上下,游人去而禽鸟乐也。然而禽鸟知山林之乐,而不知人之乐;人知从太守游而乐,而不知太守之乐其乐也。醉能同其乐,醒能述以文者,太守也。太守谓谁?庐陵欧阳修也。

环绕滁州的都是山。那西南方的几座山峰,树林和山谷格外秀美。一眼望去,树木茂盛,又幽深又秀丽的,是琅琊山。沿着山路走六七里,渐渐听到潺潺的流水声,看到流水从两座山峰之间倾泻而出的,那是酿泉。泉水沿着山峰折绕,沿着山路拐弯,有一座亭子像飞鸟展翅似地,飞架在泉上,那就是醉翁亭。建造这亭子的是谁呢?是山上的和尚智仙。给它取名的又是谁呢?太守用自己的别号(醉翁)来命名。太守和他的宾客们来这儿饮酒,只喝一点儿就醉了;而且年纪又最大,所以自号“醉翁”。醉翁的情趣不在于喝酒,而在欣赏山水的美景。欣赏山水美景的乐趣,领会在心里,寄托在酒上。

至于太阳的升起,山林里的雾气散了;烟云聚拢来,山谷就显得昏暗了;朝则自暗而明,暮则自明而暗,或暗或明,变化不一,这就是山中的朝暮。野花开了,有一股清幽的香味;好的树木枝繁叶茂,形成一片浓密的绿荫;风高霜洁,天高气爽,水落石出,这就是山中的四季。清晨前往,黄昏归来,四季的风光不同,乐趣也是无穷无尽的。

至于背着东西的人在路上欢唱,来去行路的人在树下休息,前面的招呼,后面的答应;老人弯着腰走,小孩子由大人领着走。来来往往不断的行人,是滁州的游客。到溪边钓鱼,溪水深并且鱼肉肥美;用酿泉造酒,泉水清并且酒也清;野味野菜,横七竖八地摆在面前的,那是太守主办的宴席。宴会喝酒的乐趣,不在于音乐;投射的中了,下棋的赢了,酒杯和酒筹交互错杂;时起时坐大声喧闹的人,是欢乐的宾客们。一位容颜苍老,头发花白的人醉醺醺地坐在众人中间,是喝醉了的太守。

不久,太阳下山了,人影散乱,宾客们跟随太守回去了。树林里的枝叶茂密成荫,鸟儿到处叫,是游人离开后鸟儿在欢乐地跳跃。但是鸟儿只知道山林中的快乐,却不知道人们的快乐;而人们只知道跟随太守游玩的快乐,却不知道太守以游人的快乐为快乐啊。醉了能够和大家一起欢乐,醒来能够用文章记述这乐事的人,那就是太守啊。太守是谁呢?是庐陵欧阳修吧。

作者虽受骈文影响,但非食而不化,乃是有所创造,融化到笔底,又自然天成。不做作,不矫饰。

四、醉翁亭记全文翻译

《醉翁亭记》全文翻译如下:

环绕着滁州城的都是山。它西南方的山峰,树教督林和山谷格外秀美。远远望过去树木茂盛,又幽深又秀丽的,是琅琊山。沿着山上走六七里,渐渐听到潺潺的流水声,是一股水流从两峰之间飞泻而下,是酿泉。山势回环,路也跟着拐弯,有一个四角翘起,像鸟张开翅膀一样高踞于泉水之上的亭子,是醉翁亭。

建造这个亭子的人是谁?是山里的和尚智仙。给它命名的人是谁?是太守用自己的别号给它命名的。太守和烂唤岁宾客来这里饮酒,喝了一点就醉了,而且年龄又是最大,所以给自己起了个别号叫“醉翁”。醉翁的角预真天含号义情趣不在喝酒上,而在欣赏山水之间的美景。欣赏山水的客乐趣,领会在心里,寄托在喝酒上。

又如太阳出来而树林的雾气消散了;烟云聚拢来,山谷就显得昏暗了。阴暗明亮交替变化的,是山间早晨和傍晚。野花开了,有一股清幽的香味;美好的树木繁茂滋长,形成一片浓郁的绿阴;天高气爽,霜色洁白,冬天溪水落下,露出石头,就是山里的四季景象。早晨进山,傍晚回城。四季的景色不同,乐趣也是无穷无尽的。

至于背负着东西的人在路上欢唱,走路的人在树下休息,零识前面的人呼喊,后面的人应答;老人弯着腰走,小孩子由大人领着走。来来往往络绎不绝的,是滁成缺程权州人在出游。

来到溪边捕鱼,溪水深,鱼儿肥;用酿泉的泉水来酿酒,泉水清,酒水甜;野味野菜,错杂地摆在面前的,那是太守在宴请宾客。宴会喝酒的乐趣,不在于弹使防宽汉琴奏乐;投壶的人中了,下棋的赢了,酒杯和酒筹交互错杂;人们时坐时起,大声喧哗,是宾客在尽情欢乐。容颜苍老,头发花白,醉醺醺地坐在众人中间,是太守喝醉了。

不久,夕阳落到山顶,(于是)人的影子散乱一地,这是宾客们跟随着印提数批市太守归去了。树林里的枝叶茂密成荫,鸟列钱灯始儿到处啼鸣,游人离开,鸟儿快乐。但是鸟儿只知道山林中的乐趣,棉烟探却不知道人们的乐趣。而人们只链芦知道跟随太守游玩的乐趣,却不知道太守以游人的快乐为饥睁快乐。

醉了能够和大家一起欢乐区外成穿编二伟一米,醒来能够用文章记叙这乐事的人,是太守。太守是谁?是庐陵的欧阳修。

醉翁亭记翻译-醉翁亭记的翻译和原文

《醉翁亭记》简介

《醉翁亭记》是宋代文学家欧阳修于宋仁宗庆历五年(1045年)创作的一篇文章。

该文描写了滁州一带朝暮四季自然景物不同的幽深秀美,滁州百姓和平宁静的生活,特别是作者在山林中与民一齐游赏宴局观调精益红渐饮的乐趣。全文贯穿一个“乐”字,其中则包含着比较复杂曲折的内容。

一则暗示出一个绿直皮盐谈交例亲封建地方长官能“与民同乐”的情怀,一则在寄情山水背后隐藏着难言的苦衷。正当四十岁的盛年却自号“醉翁”,而且经常出游,加上他那“饮少辄醉”、“颓然乎其间”的种种表现,都表明欧阳修是借山水之乐来排谴谪居生活的苦闷。

该文中“醉翁之意不在酒,在乎山水之间也”为千古名句,表达了作者纵情林木、醉意山水的情怀。

以上内容参考搜狗百科-醉翁亭记全文翻译



六、双语||《醉翁亭记》原文及6个版本英译

本文转自:英语微记

《醉翁亭记》是北宋文学家欧阳修创作的一篇散文。作者醉在两处:一是陶醉于山水美景之中,二是陶醉于与民同乐之中。下面来看看六个版本的英译。

醉翁亭记翻译-醉翁亭记的翻译和原文

环滁皆山也。其西南诸峰,林壑尤美。望之蔚然而深秀者,琅琊也。山行六七里,渐闻水声潺潺,而泄出于两峰之间者,酿泉也。峰回路转,有亭翼然临于泉上者,醉翁亭也。作亭者谁?山之僧曰智仙也。名之者谁?太守自谓也。太守与客来饮于此,饮少辄醉,而年又最高,故自号曰“醉翁”也。醉翁之意不在酒,在乎山水之间也。山水之乐,得之心而寓之酒也。

若夫日出而林霏开,云归而岩穴暝,晦明变化者,山间之朝暮也。野芳发而幽香,佳木秀而繁阴,风霜高洁,水落而石出者,山间之四时也。朝而往,暮而归,四时之景不同,而乐亦无穷也。

至于负者歌于途,行者休于树,前者呼,后者应,伛偻提携,往来而不绝者,滁人游也。临溪而渔,溪深而鱼肥;酿泉为酒,泉香而酒冽;山肴野蔌,杂然而前陈者,太守宴也。宴酣之乐,非丝非竹,射者中,弈者胜,觥筹交错,坐起而喧哗者,众宾欢也。苍然白发,颓然乎其中者,太守醉也。

已而夕阳在山,人影散乱,太守归而宾客从也。树林阴翳,鸣声上下,游人去而禽鸟乐也。然而禽鸟知山林之乐,而不知人之乐;人知从太守游而乐,而不知太守之乐其乐也。醉能同其乐,醒能述以文者,太守也。太守谓谁?庐陵欧阳修也。

The Roadside Hut of the Old Drunkard

Ouyang Xiu

The District of Chu is enclosed all around by hills, of which those in the southwest boast the most lovely forests and dales. In the distance, densely wooded and possessed of a rugged beauty, is Mt. Langya. When you penetrate a mile or two into this mountain you begin to hear the gurgling of a stream, and presently the stream — the Brewer's Spring — comes into sight cascading between two peaks. Rounding a bend you see a hut with a spreading roof by the stream, and this is the Roadside Hut of the Old Drunkard. This hut was built by the monk Zhixian. It was given its name by the governor, referring to himself. The governor, coming here with his friends, often gets tipsy after a little drinking; and since he is the most advanced in years, he calls himself the Old Drunkard. He delights less in drinking than in the hills and streams, taking pleasure in them and expressing the feeling in his heart through drinking.

Now at dawn and dusk in this mountain come the changes between light and darkness: when the sun emerges, the misty woods become clear; when the clouds hang low, the grottoes are wrapped in gloom. Then in the course of the four seasons, You find wild flowers burgeoning and blooming with a secret fragrance, the stately trees put on their mantle of leaves and give a goodly shade, until wind and frost touch all with austerity, the water sinks low and the rocks at the bottom of the stream emerge. A man going there in the morning and returning in the evening during the changing pageant of the seasons can derive endless pleasure from the place.

And the local people may be seen making their way there and back in an endless stream, the old and infirm as well as infants in arms, men carrying burdens who sing as they go, passersby stopping to rest beneath the trees, those in front calling out and those behind answering. There the governor gives a feast with a variety of dishes before him, mostly wild vegetables and mountain produce. The fish are freshly caught from the stream, and since the stream is deep and the fish are fat; the wine is brewed with spring water, and since the spring is sweet the wine is superb. There they feast and drink merrily with no accompaniment of strings or flutes; when someone wins a game of touhu or chess, when they mark up their scores in drinking games together, or raise a cheerful din sitting or standing, it can be seen that the guests are enjoying themselves. The elderly man with white hair in the middle, who sits utterly relaxed and at his ease, is the governor, already half drunk.

Then the sun sinks towards the hills, men's shadows begins to flit about and scatter; and now the governor leaves, followed by his guests. In the shade of the woods birds chirp above and below, showing that the men have gone and the birds are at peace. But although the birds enjoy the hills and forests, they cannot understand the men's pleasure in them; and although men enjoy accompanying the governor there, they cannot understand his pleasure either. The governor is able to share his enjoyment with others when he is in his cups, and sober again can write an essay about it. Who is this governor? Ouyang Xiu of Luling.

(杨宪益、戴乃迭 译)

The Story of the Old Drunkard Tower

Ou-yang Hsiu

The prefecture of Chu is surrounded with hills on all sides. The wooded ravines of the south-west peaks are particularly beautiful. Lo, there is Lang Ya Hill shrouded in deep, luxuriant blue. After a few miles' walk in the mountains, the murmur of a stream will gradually come within hearing — that is the Brewing Fountain pouring down between two peaks. By turning round the peak along a bending path there appears a tower standing like a perching bird above the fountain — that is the Old Drunkard Tower. Who built the tower? A Buddhist monk, the Wise Immortal. Who gave it the name? The Prefect refers to himself. The Prefect comes to drink here with his guests. Only a little drinking will make him drunk; and being the eldest he therefore calls himself the old drunkard. The old drunkard is not interested in the wine, but in the hills and rivers. The joy of hills and rivers, found in the heart, mingles itself with the wine.

To illustrate, the sunrise dispersing the mists over the woods, and the return of clouds dimming the caves below the rocks — this is the alteration of light and shade, which represents the morning and evening in the mountains. Sweet smell emitting from the fresh wild grass; luxuriant shades made by the fine trees; the high, clear skies, windy and frosty; rocks standing out of receding water — these are the changes of the four seasons in the mountains. Going out in the morning and coming back in the evening, one finds each of the four seasons has its different scenery, and the pleasure is inexhaustible.

As for the carriers on the road, the wayfarers taking rest under the trees, some shouting ahead and some score behind, and others bent with burdens going to and fro without a break — these are visitors from Chu itself. To angle at the stream where the stream is deep and the fishes are fat; to brew the fountain water into wine where the water is delicious and the wine is clear; and with mountain game and wild vegetable placed before him in a confused manner — that is the Prefect at banquet. The pleasure of revelry is music neither of string, no of bamboo. The shooters hitting the marks; the chess-players scoring victory; winecups and counters mixed together; and people sitting down and rising up with much noise — the guests are happy and merry. And amidst the crowd a man with a sallow face and white hair, being hardly able to stand firm — that is the Prefect made drunk.

Soon the sun touching the mountain, and the shadows of men being scattered in confusion — the Prefect, followed by his guests, is going back. In the shades of the groves warbling is heard up and down — the birds are enjoying themselves after the departure of the visitors. The birds enjoy mountains and woods, but understand not the pleasure of men; and men enjoy the pleasure of following the Prefect in excursion, but they know not what pleasure the Prefect enjoys. He who shares their pleasures in drunkenness, and when awake can relate it in writing — this is the Prefect. Who is the Prefect? — Ou-yang Hsiu of Lu Ling.

(潘正英 译)

The Pavilion of the Drunken Old Man

Ouyang Xiu

Chu Zhou is surrounded with mountains. The forests and valleys on the southwest ridge are especially beautiful. Lying in the distance, where the trees grow luxuriantly and gracefully, is the Langya Mountain. Six or seven li up the mountain path, a gurgling sound grows clearer and clearer. It is from a spring that falls between two mountains. The spring is called the Wine-Making Spring. The path turns and twists along the mountain ridge, and above the spring rests a pavilion perching aloft like a bird with wings outstretched. This is the Pavilion of the Drunken Old Man. Who built this pavilion? Monk Zhixian, who lived in the mountain. And who furnished it with that name? It was the prefect, who named it after his own alias. The prefect often comes here to drink wine with his friends and he easily gets tipsy after a few cups. Being oldest in age among his companions, he calls himself "the drunken old man". The drinker's heart is not in the cup, but in the mountains and waters. The joy he gets from them is treasured in the heart, and now and then he will express it through wine-drinking.

In the morning, the rising sun disperses the forest mists, and in the evening, the gathering clouds darken the caves and valleys. This shifting from light to darkness is morning and evening in the mountains. In spring, blooming flowers send forth a delicate fragrance; in summer, the flourishing trees afford deep shades; in autumn, the sky is high and crisp, and the frost, snowy white; in winter, the water of the creek recedes and the bare bedrock emerges. These are the mountain scenes in the four seasons. Going to the mountain in the morning and returning home in the evening and enjoying the beauties of the mountain in different seasons is a delight beyond description!

Carriers are singing all along the way, and pedestrians are taking rest beneath the trees. Some are shouting from the fore and are answered by others from behind. There are hunchbacked old folks, and children led by their elders. They are people from Chuzhou who have come here in an endless stream. Some are fishing by the creek where the water is deep and the fish are big. The water itself is faintly scented and the wine brewed from it is crystal clear. Upon the prefect's banquet table is a sundry layer of dishes, including the meat of wild beasts and the flavorings of edible mountain herbs. The joy of the feast lies not in the musical accompaniment of strings or flutes, but in winning the games, such as throwing arrows into the vessel, or chess playing. Wine cups and gambling chips lay scattered in blithe disarray. The revelers, now sitting, now standing, cavort madly among themselves. These are the prefect's guests, and the old man with wizened face and white hair among them, who is half drunk, is none other than the prefect himself.

As dusk falls, one sees shifting shadows scattering in all directions. The prefect is leaving for home, and his guests are following him. The shadows of the trees are deepening, and birds are chirping high and low. The people are going home, leaving the birds free to enjoy themselves. The birds only know their joy in the wooded mountains, but are unaware of what makes the people joyful. The people only know that they are joyful on their excursion with the prefect, but are unaware that the prefect finds his joy in seeing them joyful. He, who enjoys himself with the people when drunk, and records this excursion in writing when sober, is the prefect himself. And who is the prefect? He is Ouyang Xiu of Luling.

(罗经国 译)

The Arbour of the Drunken Graybeard

Ouyang Xiu

Surrounding Chu Prefecture are all mountains. Those standing in the southwest with wooded peaks and valleys are the most sublime. The one that commands a view of luxuriant forests, imparting a sense of seclusion and veiled beauty, is Mount Langya. A walk of six or seven li along the mountain trail brings one within earshot of gurgling water, which announces Niang Spring gushing out between two peaks. The path twists and the peak gives a changed aspect. Then one comes in sight of an arbour soaring like a bird spreading its wings over the spring. This is namely the Arbour of the Drunken Graybeard. Who set up the arbour? The monk of the mountains called Zhi Xian. Who gave it the name? His Excellency the prefect. The prefect and his guests often come here to drink. Even with a few sips, the former would become intoxicated, and being the oldest, styled himself the Drunken Graybeard. The Drunken Graybeard does not aim at wine, but at the splendid scenery. The delight it bestows is acquired by heart but deposited in wine.

The sun rises, the fog in the forests dissipates, and the stone caves become obscured as clouds are vanishing—the shift of light to darkness marks the passage of time from dawn till dusk. And then the wild flowers blossom, emitting their delicate fragrance, the woods are clad with lush foliage. Again, nature is hoary with rime and stones stand out in the shallow stream—all this shows the changes of the four seasons in the mountains. Setting out from morn and returning at eve, one perceives the different views in different seasons and the joy of admiring nature’s beauty is simply infinite.

As for the carriers singing on the way, the ramblers resting in the trees’ shade, the men walking ahead calling and being answered by those trailing behind, and the senile trudging with bowed bodies or the adults leading their children by the hand, all forming an uninterrupted passage of people to and fro—it is the Chu folks sauntering on the mountain. Angling in the deep stream teeming with fat fish, brewing aromatic wine with Niang Spring water, hunting for game and gathering wild edible plants—all this is for the preparation of a miscellaneous feast in honour of the prefect. The jocundity of the feast does not find expression in music. You can see the contestants shooting their arrows into the pots for prizes, the chess players winning their games, cups and goblets scatters in confusion, and people roistering in standing or sitting postures —it is the guests revelling. And the white-haired old man, stricken in years, lying prostrate in their midst —it is the prefect being inebriated.

Then the sun is setting down the mountain ridges, and the excursionists are dispersing in different directions. The prefect is going home, followed by his guests. Under the canopy of leaves, birds are warbling everywhere, for they are glad of the departure of the intruders. However, the fowls know the joy of wooded mountains, but they are beyond the knowledge of man’s happiness. And the folks know how to make merry in the company of the prefect, but they have no idea how His Excellency enjoys himself. The one who is able to share the common mirth when intoxicated and put it down in refined description when sobered is none other than the prefect. Who is the prefect? Ouyang Xiu of Luling.

(谢百魁 译)

Chuchow is surrounded by mountains; the woods and valleys to the southwest are particularly beautiful. One of the ranges, the Langya, which can be seen from a long way off, is thickly covered with tall and graceful vegetation. After journeying on the mountainside for six or seven li, one begins to hear the sound of flowing water. It is the Niang Spring rushing out from between two peaks. Placed amidst surrounding elevations and winding roads is a pavilion which juts out over the spring like the wing of a bird. This is the Old Drunkard’s Pavilion, which was built by the monk Chih-hsien and named by the Prefect with an allusion to himself. He frequently comes here and drinks with his guests. He gets drunk on a few cups, and he is the oldest of all the topers. Hence the self-imposed nickname—Old Drunkard. However, Old Drunkard’s heart is not set on the wine, but lies somewhere betwixt the mountains and the rivers. The delight of mountains and rivers comes from the heart, and is derived from wine.

When the sun rises, the atmosphere in the woods clears up. When the clouds come home, the mountain caves grow dark. This coming of brightness and darkness spells the arrival of morning and evening respectively in the mountains. Now the wild grass emits a refreshing perfume; now exquisite trees grow luxuriantly and cast a deep shade; now wind and frost, high and pure, go their rounds; now the water becomes clear and the pebbles are exposed to view. These are the four seasons in the mountains. If we make our outings in the morning and come back in the evening, the landscapes of the four seasons are different and the pleasures they afford are unlimited.

People carrying burdens sing as they go, travelers pause to rest under the trees, those walking in front give a shout and those following behind respond. The travelers, with their backs bent, carry their children and come and go incessantly. These are the people of Chuchow journeying on the road. When angle in the deep brook, we catch fat fish. When we make wine with the sweet spring water, it is clear and smooth to the palate. Other mountain food and wild vegetable are assembled with these and set on the table before us when the Prefect gives his feast. Even without wind or stringed instruments, the revelries become intense with arrow-throwing and chess, with drinking and wine games. Now seated, now standing up, the guests utter loud noises, and have a marvelous time. Little by little, the Prefect, sitting in the center with his wrinkled face and gray hair, is seen drooping under the effect of the wine.

Shortly after, the sun sets over the mountains, the shadows of the revelers are scattered around and the guests follow the Prefect as he returns home. A pall of darkness covers the trees, while the birds warble here and there as the guests leave. However, while the birds know the delights of mountains and trees, they do not know those of men; and while men know the delights of traveling with the Prefect, they do not know how the Prefect enjoys their pleasures. It is the Prefect who can share their pleasures while drunk and write about them while sober. Who is the Prefect? It is none other than Ou-yang Hsiu from Luling.

(刘师舜 译)

The Old Drunkard’s Arbour

Ou-Yang Shiou

The district of Ch’u is entirely surrounded by hills, and the peaks to the south-west are clothed with a dense and beautiful growth of trees, over which the eye wanders in rapture away to the confines of Shantung.

A walk of two or three miles on those hills brings one within earshot of the sound of falling water which gushes forth from a ravine, and is known as the Wine-Fountain; while hard by in a nook at a bend in the road stands a kiosque, commonly spoken of as the Old Drunkard’s Arbour.

It was built by a Buddhist priest, called Deathless Wisdom, who lived among these hills; and who received the above name from the Governor himself. For the latter used to bring his friends hither to take wine; and as he personally was incapacitated by a very few cups, and was, moreover, well stricken in years, he gave himself the sobriquet of the Old Drunkard.

But it was not wine that attracted him to this spot; it was the charming scenery which wine enabled him to enjoy.

The sun’s rays, peeping at dawn through the trees, by-and-by to be obscured behind gathering clouds, leaving naught but gloom around, give to this spot the alternations of morning and night.

The wild flowers that exhale their perfume from the darkness of some shady dell; the luxuriant foliage of the dense forest of beautiful trees; the clear frosty wind; and the naked boulders of the lessening torrent;—these are the indications of spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

Morning is the time to go thither, returning with the shades off night; and although the place presents a different aspect with the changes of the season, its charms are subject to no interruption, but continue always.

Burden-carriers sing their way along the road, travellers rest awhile under the trees; shouts from one, responses from another; old people hobbling along; children in arms, children dragged along by hand; backwards and forwards all day long without a break;—these are the people of Ch’u.

A cast in the stream, and a fine fish taken from some spot where the eddying pools begin to deepen; a draught of cool wine from the fountain; and a few such dishes of meats and fruits as the hills are able to provide;—these, nicely spread out beforehand, constitute the Governor’s feast.

And in the revelry of the banquet hour there is no thought of toil or trouble. Every archer hits his mark, and every player wins his partie; goblets flash from hand to hand, and a buzz of conversation is heard as the guests move unconstrainedly about. Among them is an old man with white hair, bald at the top of his head. This is the drunken Governor, who, when the evening sun kisses the tips of the hills, and the falling shadows are drawn out and blurred, bends his steps homewards in company with his friends. Then in the growing darkness are heard sounds above and below: the beasts of the field and the birds of the air are rejoicing at the departure of man. They, too, can rejoice in hills and trees, but they cannot rejoice as man rejoices.

So also the Governor’s friends. They rejoice with him, though they know not at what it is that he rejoices. Drunk, he can rejoice with them; sober, he can discourse with them;—such is the Governor. And should you ask who is the Governor, I reply, “Ou-yang Hsiu of Lu-ling.”

(Herbert A. Giles 译)

The Pavilion of an Old Drunkard

Ouyang Xiu

The Town of Chu is encircled by hills. However, those in the southwest boast the most fascinating forests and valleys. Yet the most lushly verdant and beautifully secluded among them is Mount Langya. Hiking one to two miles into it, you begin to hear water gurgling, and that gurgling sound will usher you to a natural fountain—the Brewing Spring, where a stream of water gushes out between two peaks. Rounding the bend and winding along the track, you will see, perched right above the fountain, a pavilion with its roof spreading upward like a big open-winged bird, and that is the Pavilion of an Old Drunkard. Who built it, you may wonder? It is Zhixian, the monk in the mountain! Who named it? The Governor, after his own nickname! Once, the Governor brought his friends here to hobnob. Because he was the most senior and soon got tipsy, he thus referred to himself as “an Old Drunkard”. However, what he is interested in is not to get drunk from the wine, but to get intoxicated with the scenery, for the fun with scenery comes from one’s heart but enlivens in the cup.

When the sun rises, the mist in the forests lifts; when the sky hazes over, the valleys blur. This alternation of brightness and dimness characterizes the mornings and dusks in the hills. When the wild flowers bloom, a faint fragrance permeates; when the sturdy trees flourish, they turn bosky and bowery; when the wind drifts high, frost appears white; when the water recedes, rocks emerge. These shifts typify the four seasons in the hills. And so, the varied scenes of the four seasons you see during your morning visit here or upon your evening home-returning will give you endless pleasure.

Therefore, now on this path, which is frequented by all kinds of sightseers from the town, you can see people carrying travel packs and singing; hikers resting under the trees; fellow travelers ahead and those behind calling out to each other; the aged, the infirm, and even the toddlers in arms. The stream is deep, apt to breed fat fish; the water from the fountain is good for brewing aromatic and mellow wine. And now the Governor’s feast is in progress, with dishes of wild game and wild vegetables casually laid out in front. What creates the joyous mood here is not string music, nor flute music, but the moment when all the invited jump up to cheer for a pot-target hitter, or a chess winner, or the vociferous finger-game competitors. Amid them all is the intoxicated silver-haired Governor.

Soon the glowing sun sinks toward the hills, slanting and scattering the human shadows. The Governor starts to leave, followed by his guests. The verdant woods are shaded, and the birds, rioting. The retreat of the humans brings cheer to the fowl and birds. Yet the fowl and birds only know the happiness obtained from the hills and woods, but do not understand the humans’ happiness, and the guests only know the happiness of accompanying the Governor, but not that their Governor enjoys his own enjoyments, that is, when drunk, enjoying his guests, and when sober, enjoying writing down his prose. This is the type of Governor he is! And who is he? Ouyang Xiu, a Luling dweller!

(徐英才 译)

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